The morning passed quickly. Isolde shut herself away in the Black library. She felt in so much turmoil that only retreating into fiction would give her the space to adjust to wakefulness. Most of the Black books were wizarding texts, some old and venerable, many of them Dark Magic, and a few which she noted for future perusal. In her still fragile state however she wanted something more diverting. On a small side table next to a large winged leather armchair stood a neat pile of books denuded of the layer of dust which covered everything else. To her surprise the little pile consisted solely of Shakespeare. It was unusual for a pure-blood family to take an interest in Muggle classics and Isolde opened the slim volume of sonnets to see who it belonged to. On the right hand corner of the title page was written 'S. Snape' in a cribbed neat script. That explained who owned it, but Isolde still didn't understand how it had ended up in Grimmauld Place. Underneath the sonnets lay a copy of Richard II. This too belonged to Severus but dotted throughout the text were annotations in a more fluid, not to say messy, hand. Her cousin hated people writing in books. She well remembered being told off as a third year when he saw her writing in the margins of a History of Magic text. He was only slightly mollified when she told him she was correcting its errors. Whoever had doctored his copy could be sure of punishment. Lost in a reverie Isolde hadn't noticed Lupin till he spoke from the open doorway.
"This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
This earth of majesty, this, this, this... what comes next?" he asked entering the room. Isolde furrowed her brow, "This, this - ah! - this seat of Mars!" Lupin smiled as he continued, "This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war. I think of those words you know, as I do the weeding. It's calming somehow, in this continuing nightmare." Both of them looked to the window and the morning light which streamed through. It was already another beautiful day. "I didn't know you liked Shakespeare,"
"Neither did I. Severus lent me some plays and sonnets,"
"Any favourites?"
"I know I don't like Hamlet. Too much dithering. Reminds me of myself! I'm enjoying Richard II. I like all the horticultural metaphors,"
"I didn't know you for a gardener Remus,"
"There have been times when growing my own has kept the wolf from the door, er, so to speak. But here it's not potatoes and courgettes so much as taming the wilderness."
Mrs Weasely's arrival was heralded with a shriek and before Isolde had checked her instinctive reaction to reach for her wand Molly had burst into the library and was holding the young woman close to her chest. "Oh Isolde, I'm so pleased you're back with us, we had no idea how long it would take, you looked deathly white when Sirius found you, I feared for your life I really did, he tells me that you've eaten but that was hours ago, I should make you something now, you just sit here and rest, I'll be back in just a tick." Throughout this babble of talk Mrs Weasely managed to check Isolde's wounds, straighten the young woman's clothes (crumpled by the embrace), check her temperature and steer her back into the leather chair from which she had just risen. Remus tried hard to hide his giggles as he deftly stepped out of the room. Less than five minutes later Mrs Weasely was back with a tray full of food and a huge mug of tea. After the pleasantries were out of the way and Isolde had insisted for the third time that she felt quite well considering she asked after the family. "Everyone is fine dear. Arthur - do you remember Arthur? - is thrilled that you've recovered. We so loved having you to stay that summer. We hoped that you and Charlie might... well, you shall get to see him soon. He's due to pop back for a summer visit and I'm sure he will want to see you." Isolde's heart leapt at the possibility of seeing her best friend. During their final year at Hogwarts Charlie Weasely and Isolde Snape had made quite the glamorous couple, him the captain of the all-conquering Gryffindor quidditch team and her Head Girl. Mrs Weasely wasn't the only one to entertain thoughts of marriage. Though it was getting on for seven years since their break up Charlie remained Isolde's most significant ex, and it was a great joy to her that they had remained steadfast friends.
It was at 10 am and laden with heaviness from her second breakfast that Isolde wandered down to the kitchen. She expected Severus' sedative to wear off soon and wanted to be nearby when he came around. Remus, Sirius and Mrs Weasely were poring over the latest Daily Prophet. "Anything I need to know?" Remus looked up from a Rita Skeeter article. His furrowed brow implied he wasn't far from writing a letter of complaint, "Just the usual rubbish." Sirius yawned and stretched, "You know Voldemort is back from the dead, right?"
"It would be hard not to know, all of Europe is talking about it."
"Then you're up to date." Since Isolde had last seen Sirius he'd got dressed. Flip flops, threadbare jeans and a 'Sex Pistols' tee shirt made him look like an ageing rock star. And not in a good way. Several days' worth of stubble clung to his cheeks and his jet black hair was unkempt and fell about his face. Isolde couldn't decide what to make of Azkaban's ex-inmate. He'd been rude about Sev, looked like he could do with a wash and had a line in sarcasm almost as good as her cousin's. But for all that he had a winning grin and had, so Remus told her, spent his time as her warden talking to her and playing music. Hardly the behaviour of a villain.
The fire in the hearth turned green and out stepped Albus Dumbledore. He greeted the assembled company and in one stride was facing Isolde, clutching her shoulders and looking at her with those searching blue eyes. "My dear Isolde! How happy I am to see you,"
"As I you Professor. I am sorry my report has been delayed," Dumbledore dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand but his eyes continued to cross examine her. There was something in her manner, her formality, that concerned him. The others had stopped reading the paper and were watching them. They sensed too that something was amiss. People usually loved to see Dumbledore, he gladdened their hearts and put them at ease. But Isolde stood stiffly, and though she met Dumbledore's eyes there was an air of defiance in her look that no-one could quite decipher. "Shall we go to the sitting room?"
"Yes, Professor." The old wizard and young witch swept out of the room. "Now what was all that about?" Mrs Weasely asked.
"I can see the resemblance to Snape now," Sirius chipped in, "Christ the way she looked at Dumbledore, it's the way Snape looks at, well, me." Lupin stared at the paper, thinking hard.
In the sitting room Snape slumbered on. Dumbledore took his hand and looked at him sorrowfully. "As you can see I find my cousin in poor shape,"
"I was aware last night's meeting had been particularly trying,"
"Trying? Look at him Professor! Remus was healing him for hours. Severus arrived back here with a broken jaw, a broken leg, a cracked skull, deep gashes all over his chest. And he'd been Crucio'd. Is this what he's been going through while I've been gone?" Dumbledore looked very weary, "It is necessary, Isolde. Severus needs to gain Voldemort's trust. He would tell you the same thing."
"Oh, I know he would. He's loyal enough, and cares little enough for his own life to attempt any task you set him. But I love him. He's my only living family. And he's being tortured. You have to see the, the horror of this!" Isolde was furious with herself for the crack in her voice and the way it's pitch had got higher and higher. Dumbledore turned to Isolde and now there was steeliness hadn't heard before, "Severus volunteered for this Isolde. He knew what he was getting into. I am no keener to see him hurt than you. We must do all we can to protect him without compromising his unique position," Isolde tried to protest but Dumbledore carried on, more softly, "and I believe you and I care about him most in the world. We have to work together." Mutely, and blinking back tears, Isolde nodded. She knew she would soon have an identical argument with the object of her concern.
Isolde and Dumbledore returned to the kitchen in silence. The others could see her red-rimmed eyes. "Thrilled as I am to have Isolde with us again I am here to speak to Remus. I have called a meeting of the Order for tomorrow, at 6. I shall see all of you then when Severus," Dumbledore looked at Isolde who turned her eyes away, "will be well enough to join us. Remus, a moment..?" Lupin followed the headmaster into the garden as Isolde headed to her cousin's side. Sirius and Molly shared a long look.
Twenty minutes later Dumbledore had departed and Remus Lupin had a new sense of purpose to match the queasiness in his stomach. The full moon was fast approaching and Dumbledore had asked him to spend another change in the company of his fellow creatures. His unique position in the Order made Lupin feel both vital and ill used. Every time he changed in the open there was a risk he would kill or infect Muggles, a possibility worse than death. Still, it was felt necessary to take the temperature of the werewolves, and counter what offers Voldemort may have made them. A fool's errand, in Lupin's opinion, and he was the fool.